


I'm So In Love (but not only) With You

by aintweproudriff



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Found Family, Future Fic, Gershwin lyrics, M/M, Michael is very much dead sorry, Nightmares, Not A Fix-It, This Is Sad, Writing to Cope, but im assuming everyone knows about Michael so im not giving it a warning, cooking to cope, song in a fic but not a song fic, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintweproudriff/pseuds/aintweproudriff
Summary: She passed him the journal, and he ran his fingers over the cool red leather before reading. “When I’m all alone,” he read aloud, “I talk to myself like I’m talking to you. I lie on the couch and hum a little tune, and I’m singing to you.” He looked at her, feeling his eyes narrowing. “This is about Michael.”





	I'm So In Love (but not only) With You

**Author's Note:**

> The song that inspired this fic is "I'm So In Love with You" by Jill Andrews and Seth Avett. I recommend listening to it as you read the story; maybe start when you get about halfway through. 
> 
> Also I cried multiple times while writing this. Not to be mean, but I hope you cry while you read it.

Julia spent very little time alone since coming back from tour and moving in with Donny. Living together and having the same work schedule as her boyfriend meant they saw a lot of each other. When they went out, it was usually as a band and rarely, rarely alone. If Julia went out by herself, it was to only a few places: one of the homes of another band member, her friends house, her mother’s, or church. Donny and Julia even ran most, if not all, of their errands together, simply because they could, and it made it more interesting.  
She loved it. Julia had always been an extrovert in her younger days, so she felt charged when she had other people around her. Donny obviously flourished with Julia around all the time, too. It gave him a way to joke around or be as serious as he pleased.  
Spending so much time together meant that they knew each other perfectly, and could predict each other’s next words just by glancing at their face. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

But that wasn’t to say she wasn’t ready to get some time alone when Donny and Davy went out for the day to speak at a conference for the Veterans’ Association. She would have gone with, since she didn’t always trust those two to say the right things, but she preferred not subjecting her body to two and a half hours in a car. Donny said he understood, and that if he didn’t have to go, he wouldn’t. She knew that wasn’t quite true; he loved the stage, in whatever way he could get it.

Early that Saturday morning, Donny kissed her temple before he rolled out of bed, and Julia hummed a warm goodbye. 

“I’ll be back tonight, alright?” he pulled the covers back up over her shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Donny,” she mumbled. “Have a good day.”

Once Julia got up, she settled herself in for a day of making as much soup as she possibly could. She and Donny could eat quite a bit, her mother would like some, the boys could all use a good meal that wasn’t from a greasy restaurant, and the rest she’d bring to the Sunday afternoon soup kitchen.  
She began cutting up the chicken, grimacing at the way the raw meat felt. 

“This is the worst part,” she said aloud. “It’s disgusting. But once it’s done, it’s so worth it.”

A few minutes later, she washed her hands up to the elbows and dried them off on an extra rag. “Okay,” she sighed. “I think we need to get some music going.” Julia stepped over to the record player - brand new, an early Christmas present from the band to the two of them - and slid an Ella Fitzgerald album on. She hummed along as music filled the room, and danced slightly as she walked back to the kitchen. 

“This is much better,” she whispered as she chopped freshly-cleaned carrots on a wood cutting board. “Isn’t it?”

She didn’t know how much time passed as she worked, but at some point, she was adding noodles and chicken to a completed broth, chatting all the while. 

“And touring was incredible, being on the road and seeing all of those cities.” She let the words fall out of her mouth like she was Donny with his fingers poised on piano keys, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “But while we were gone, I missed my home. But when we got home, living with mom wasn’t right. And I found out that I had been longing for a home I didn’t have yet, a home with Donny in it. This place, though, is the home I had been wanting. It’s home. I think you’d really like it, Michael.”

Realizing what she’d said, Julia set the bowl on the counter and turned around to look behind her. She breathed into the empty room. No pair of green eyes looked back at her, no shaggy blond hair fell in the face of an intently listening man. It was only her.  
As the soup simmered in the pot in the oven, Julia took a deep, steadying breath and went to restart the album. It played sweetly as she collapsed on the couch, unable to keep herself from humming along with the Gershwin lyrics Ella Fitzgerald sung: “there’s a someone that I’m longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be someone who'll watch over me” crooned the voice, and Julia rested her head back on the couch cushions. 

Missing him was a dull ache in the back of her chest, one that never went away - not even after almost six years. Julia still loved Michael like he had never gone away in the first place, like the first day he had gotten down on one knee and slipped the ring on her finger. So of course she missed him, and without Donny home or someone around to distract her, Michael was the person she most wanted to talk to, to sing to, to dance and cook for. She and Donny, love him as she did, talked every day. But she couldn’t talk to Michael. Michael would never see the new home, or hear the next Ella Fitzgerald album, not to mention the records of the Donny Nova Band.  
She used to think it would just take time to get over Michael. If that was the truth, then it seemed like she’d have to wait a little longer, because she obviously wasn’t over him yet. But she knew better. If she loved him forever, there was nothing wrong with that. She only wished she could hear him talk back to her. 

She kept singing along until the timer on top of the stove went off. Sighing, she stood up and stretched, not overly concerned with getting it out on time. Once she’d taken the bubbling soup out of the oven, she ran back to the bedroom to grab her notebook and pen. She had words in her head that needed to be written. 

-

Warmth wrapped around Donny, arms and hands and legs reassuring him that he was wanted and safe and so, so loved. Reassuring him that he was here now, no matter what horrors tomorrow might bring. In battle, every move was a risky one. And he and Michael had decided to intensify that risk by doing this - lying together like Michael might sleep next to his wife back home. Not that many of the other guys would have said anything. They were all trapped there together, so they may as well let their buddies find some happiness in hell.  
Besides, it made for good ridicule fodder. Michael and Donny, sitting in a tree. 

Donny curled himself impossibly smaller into Michael, hoping that this time, this night, maybe, he could get some sleep. He was so tired. Hours on hours of constant movement, constant thinking, and constant fighting were taking their toll; he needed a good rest. 

But the sound of planes, too noisome to be Japanese, betrayed his wants. The people in them sounded sirens, barked orders, demanded obedience.  
And for once, Donny did nothing. He didn’t listen to them. He didn’t obey. He reached for Michael’s hand and squeezed it, content to drown in the fighting if it meant he could stay in this warmth. He knew this was a dream, so he could do what he wanted. 

The building crashed around him, and he felt himself jump.  
Breath shaky, he reached behind him, trying to get to Michael’s hand. His fingers linked with someone’s, but he knew they weren’t Michael’s. This person didn’t have calluses on their palm from guns and crawling through rough dirt and rocks, and did have thinner, more elegant fingers. Julia, not Michael. Not the Trojan he had been missing. 

“Donny?” she murmured. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, and although she couldn’t see it in the dark, he knew she felt the motion by the way she hummed. “Yeah,” he said. “Just a nightmare.”

She squeezed his hand and rolled closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes.”

She stayed silent, so he filled the gap. “It wasn’t really a nightmare, I guess. Not scary, more calm. Sad, though. We were there - the Solomon Islands - and Michael and I were sharing a bed. It felt so good, so safe with him that I didn’t get up when sirens warned us about what was coming. Neither of us got up. We laid in bed until the building fell in on us.” He sighed into the darkness. “At least this time, when I killed him, we went out together. That’s how it should have been.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. “I just-”

“Miss him?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” she whispered, and sat up, pulling a few of the blankets with her. Donny grumbled and tried to salvage what warmth he could. “Do you need me to stay in here?”

He considered it. “Yes, please.”

“Okay. Is it okay if I turn on the light and write?”

“That’s alright,” he nodded. “I don’t think I could get much sleep now anyways.”

Julia hummed, stood up, and flicked on the light. Donny squinted as it turned on, stunned by the brightness. He laid in bed, staring intermittently at the ceiling and at her while she scribbled in her notebook, occasionally making a sound as she crossed out a word she didn’t like and added a new one. Donny focused on the things he had to try and forget the things he didn’t: Julia, a real bed, a full stomach, a few hours of peaceful sleep. 

Eventually, Julia clicked her pen and said “done.”

“With a poem?”

She made an affirmative noise, clearly pleased. 

“Can I see it?”

She passed him the journal, and he ran his fingers over the cool red leather before reading. “When I’m all alone,” he read aloud, “I talk to myself like I’m talking to you. I lie on the couch and hum a little tune, and I’m singing to you.” He looked at her, feeling his eyes narrowing. “This is about Michael.”

Julia laughed softly, almost bitterly. “It’s how my day went. I just - I just missed him, and without even realizing, I told him all about tour and the house and everything.”

Donny leaned into her, read the rest, and hummed. “This could be a song, you know.” He pointed at the page. “This first stanza would be sung by you, the second by me. Since, y’know, the first stanza was your day, the second was my dream. This last stanza becomes a chorus, we sing it together between our solos, and then afterwards, we sing it twice.”

“Donny,” she shook her head, but she was smiling. “Not everything is a song.”

“Everything should be a song.”

She laughed, and his upper body rose and fell as hers did. When she spoke again, however, her tone wasn’t as lighthearted. “Donny, we’d be singing about Michael. How much we loved him. How much you loved him. Are you comfortable doing that?”

“People are dumb, they don’t think anything is homosexual until they’re told it is. Even then, they don’t get it. They’d think we were singing to each other, Julia,” he picked up her hand and touched her knuckles to his lips. “We kind of would be; I am so in love with you.”

She kissed the top of his head, and he kept talking. 

“But we were so in love with him, too. And if we miss him, we’ve got a right to say it. Don’t we?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “We do. You do. We can bring it up to the band at tomorrow’s-” she looked at the clock, and it must have been morning already, because she corrected herself “-today’s practice.”

Donny sat up. “I’m going to go start working on accompaniment for it. Can I take your notebook?”

“Won’t you try to get more sleep?” Julia held the book to her chest protectively. 

Donny shook his head. “You know I won’t.”

Hesitantly, she handed it over. “Just don’t make too much noise. I’m going to try to sleep a little more.”

He smoothed the covers over her and kissed her temples as she rolled back over. “Thank you.”

She heard the door close behind him and smiled as faint piano drifted into the room, lulling her to sleep

-

“This is pretty,” Wayne nodded as he read the music. “Is it about you and Donny?” he asked Julia, who nodded, sneaking a look at Donny. 

“So we were thinking,” Donny launched into his band-business voice, the same kind he used when he was talking during in an interview, “it could just be myself and Julia singing. Totally acoustic, no backing music. Maybe a little bass during the second chorus, but other than that, we want it to be simplistic. And yes-” he said, seeing Nick open his mouth “-I know that having more time for the singers means the band should get more solos. We’ll work in an instrumental break between songs right after this song, if we add it to a set.”

That seemed to satisfy Nick, who looked around at the rest of the band. Jimmy nodded, then Wayne, Johnny, and Davy. 

Julia smiled. “Let’s run through it then, really quickly, see if we like it with the bass. Davy, you can improvise?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

The two of them sat on stools, and Davy stood behind them. Taking a deep breath, Julia started to sing. 

“When I'm alone, I talk to myself like I'm talking to you, talking to you. I lie on the couch and hum a little tune.” She hummed softly, swaying with the music. “I'm singing to you. And I know it'll take a little more time to get through.”

Donny nodded at her softly, and then they sang together. 

“'Cuz I'm so, I'm so in love with you. You know I can't control it, acting like such a fool. And I'm so, so in love with you. Here's to wishing, and hoping, and waiting to hear it from you. Let me hear it from you.”

Davy played some music with his bow, here, and Julia smiled at him. She really liked the way it sounded with Davy adding some background to it.

Donny picked up the second verse: “If I fall asleep and find you in a dream lying next to me. I'm holding my breath, we're tangled in sheets, and I wanna believe, I wanna believe. But in the morning, I'm still waiting for this dream to come true.”

Julia joined him again in the last verse, and as she sang, she looked around to watch the faces of her bandmates. Usually, most of them were transparent: if they liked it or didn’t like it, she could see it on their faces.

“'Cuz I'm so, I'm so in love with you. You know I can't control it, acting like such a fool. And I'm so, so in love with you. Here's to wishing, and hoping, and waiting to hear it from you. Let me hear it from you.”

She was relieved to see Johnny, Wayne, and Nick all smiling. They looked like they thought the song was pretty, like the words were about how much she loved Donny and Donny only, and like they were proud to see the two of them so happy together. 

Jimmy, on the other hand. Why was it always Jimmy who looked like he knew something no one else did? He looked at Donny with one eyebrow quirked. She caught his eye, and he gave her a slight smile, one that included only the tips of his lips. 

She decided to ignore it. If Jimmy knew, he wouldn’t tell.  
And anyway, the point of the song wasn’t for anyone else to know what it was about. It was for her and Donny, to mourn with, to be proud of, and to honor their love for each other, and for Michael. 

When they performed it for the first time, Julia swore she saw him. He was in the back of the house, standing in the aisle with his arms behind his back, just like he’d stood when she’d walked down the aisle to him, and just like he’d stood in line in the army.  
He smiled at her, and she looked at Donny, who gaped at her as Davy played behind them. He’d seen Michael too.  
That was the power their little song contained. Julia’s words and Donny’s tune brought back memories of Michael.  
She kissed Donny at the end of the song, in front of everyone, and she could feel his teeth as he smiled, and when they pulled away, he wiped a tear from her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, it's been in the works for a while now.  
> Please let me know what you thought with a comment, kudo, or both! I'm not ashamed (much) to say I thrive on kind words.  
> Also, I'd love if you'd come talk to me on tumblr @lesbianpomatter, or send me a prompt @aintweproudriff!


End file.
